


The Wager

by renlem



Series: Stjarnavetr [10]
Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Against a Wall, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Foot rubs, Masturbation, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 07:11:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13002558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renlem/pseuds/renlem
Summary: Loki and his mistress Stjarnavetr make a bet to see who can go the longest without sex.(This one shot takes place sometime between Parts I and II.)





	The Wager

Loki

The room was quiet, only the somnolent crackling of the fire and the soft scratching of pen across paper to be heard. I was sitting at the table in my bedchamber, open books and papers strewn before me, researching a topic for Master Hauknefr. The essay I was working on was supposed to have been completed a week ago, but was still unfinished and due tomorrow morning.

Stjarna was lying on my bed—had been for the past hour and a half—already in her nightgown, and every ten minutes or so she would sigh loudly and dramatically. I did not ask her what was wrong since I knew, but unfortunately there were more pressing matters at hand.

Finally, I heard her get up and come to stand behind me. She bent down, wrapped her arms around me, and pressed her head against mine.

“Loki?”

“Hmm?” 

“When are you coming to bed?”

“Soon,” I assured, silently cursing myself when I accidentally smeared a word with my hand.

She huffed. “You said that an hour ago.”

“I have to finish this.” 

“You should have finished it last week.”

“I know,” I replied, somewhat curtly, “but I didn’t, so I’m doing it now.”

“If you haven’t finished it by now, you’re not going to.”

“Thank you for the encouragement, darling.”

Stjarna exhaled sharply and let go of me. She poured herself a cup of wine from the flagon on my table—her fourth cup this night—took a few sips, and sat in the other chair. She glanced disinterestedly around, tapped her fingers impatiently on the tabletop, and sighed again.

“Do you need something?” I inquired, somewhat apathetically, and not bothering to raise my head.

“Yes.”

“Is it going to distract from what I’m doing right now?”

Stjarna sighed heavily in answer, obviously frustrated, and I could not help a little smile. It was not often that Stjarna was the one begging me for sex, but I must admit I liked when she did, since normally it was the other way around. Regrettably, though, if I did not finish my work tonight, Master Hauknefr would likely report it to Mother, who would drag me in front of Father for neglecting my lessons, and that was something I wished greatly to avoid.

“We haven’t done it since the day before yesterday,” Stjarna complained, and my eyes flickered to hers. She was reclining in the chair, twirling a lock of hair between her fingers, cup dangling from her other hand.

“So?”

She gave me a look and I laughed.

“What, it wasn’t enough to hold you over for a few days?” 

“I was half asleep, I hardly noticed.”

I snorted. “Oh, so it is habit to scream my name while you’re half asleep?” 

Stjarna’s cheeks bloomed pink and she huffed again and stood up, placing the now empty cup loudly on the table. I thought she was going to go back to bed, but to my surprise, she came around the corner of the table to stand next to me, pushed some of my books out of the way, and lifted up to sit on the edge.

She smiled at me, slowly swinging her legs.

“I was using those,” I remarked dryly, cocking an eyebrow.

“And?”

She crossed her legs, gazing expectantly at me.

“Honestly, Stjarna, I am surprised you want to do this now. My education is very important, you know.”

Stjarna, appearing unfazed, promptly and confidently responded, “Like I said, Loki, if you haven’t finished it by now, you’re not going to.” 

I set my pen down, leaned back in my chair, and folded my hands over my stomach, studying her.

“So you want to fuck me?” I asked, attempting to conceal a smile.

She glanced away, cheeks flushing an even deeper pink, and I wanted to laugh. For as long as we had been together, and all of the raunchy, debauched things I had done to her, and she to me, she still grew embarrassed when I spoke so. 

“I… wouldn’t necessarily word it like that…”

I smirked, reached over with one arm, wrapped it around Stjarna’s waist, and dragged her towards me. I pushed my papers and books out of the way and sat up a little straighter, nudging her legs apart so they dangled on either side of me. Stjarna grinned impishly when I took her by the hips and pulled her closer, so she was perched just on the edge of the table and my front pressed against the inviting heat between her thighs.

“Then how would you word it?” I murmured, tenderly kneading her soft skin through the wispy material of her gown.

Before Stjarna could reply, however, I lowered my eyes and leaned forward to affectionately kiss the space between her breasts. I slowly slid my open hands down her thighs, grabbed two fistfuls of her nightgown, and lifted it up to expose her bare skin. Slipping my fingers beneath the hem, I ran my hands back up her legs.

Stjarna’s breath caught in her throat when I turned my head and kissed her breast, taking her quickly burgeoning nipple between my lips. I smiled, wetting the diaphanous fabric with my tongue, languidly sucking on her. She reached up and curled her fingers on the back of my head, moaned my name and tilted her head back when I bit her.

I glanced up briefly before raising my head to pepper openmouthed kisses over Stjarna’s chest and across her collarbones before descending to her other breast. I tugged on her with my teeth, coaxing a halting gasp from her lips, and shifted restlessly in my chair. I could feel myself already growing increasingly aroused, not helped by the breathy little sounds Stjarna was making, and she way she was ever so subtly grinding herself against me.

I slowly opened my eyes when Stjarna tugged on my hair, pulling my head back so I was looking up at her, and she lowered her face to mine and kissed me, pushing her tongue past my teeth to explore my mouth. I responded eagerly, could already smell her desire lingering in the warm air.

Stjarna breathlessly broke the kiss, nipped playfully at my bottom lip, and whispered mockingly, “It’s too bad about your essay…”

I pressed my lips together, and feeling just as equally mischievous, stood up suddenly. Stjarna gasped in surprise when I yanked her off the table, spun her around, and pushed her down so she was bent forward over the edge. I trailed my open hand down her back, over the ridges of her spine, and pressed my lower half against her. I felt the crease of her arse through the thin fabric of her nightgown and the desire simmering inside me flared a little hotter.

Stjarna whispered my name when I leaned down, wrapped my hand gently around her neck, and lifted her up so she was pinned between me and the table. Her breaths were coming a little quicker now and I smiled shrewdly as I kissed beneath her jaw and then up and down the side of her neck, knowing she could feel me hard against her backside.

“I’m not sure you’re that torn up about it,” I breathed, snaking one arm around her. “You’re getting what you wanted.” 

She laughed softly and I reached up to pull her nightgown down over her shoulder.

“You wanted me to touch you?” I asked, placing a wet, openmouthed kiss to her warm skin.

Stjarna slightly arched her back, only let out a quiet breath in response. 

“Well?”

“Yes,” she answered in a whisper, turning her head so her lips brushed against my temple.

“What else?” I wondered, lifting up to nip at her earlobe.

“What do you mean?”

“I want you to tell me,” I said, lightly stroking the column of her throat with my thumb.

“I want you inside me,” she finally replied, grabbing my hand and moving it to her breast. I cupped it, squeezing a little too hard, and cajoled a breathy, pleasured whimper from her lips.

“What part?” I grinned, lightly pinching her nipple through the gauzy fabric, damp from my kissing earlier. 

She laughed and with her other hand reached between us. My breath hitched when she touched me, began slowly, methodically, rubbing me with the heel of her hand, bringing me rapidly the rest of the way to arousal. Stjarna was well aware of how hard she was making me, and when she spoke I could hear the smirk in her voice.

“What part do you think?”

I closed my eyes and bit the top of her shoulder, exhaling slowly as she palmed me. Pleasure radiated up and out, building between my legs. No, but this was too easy—I wanted to have a little fun.

Abruptly I grabbed Stjarna’s wrist, withdrew it from between us, and pinned it to the table. I leaned forward until she was once again bent over the edge, pressed completely flat against the surface, cheek resting on an open book.

“You want me to fuck you?” I growled, lips brushing against her skin.

She only whined my name in response, pushing back against me, and I let out a breath against her flushed skin, wet with my saliva. I moved my hand down her body until I slipped my fingers between her legs, and a rivulet of desire coursed through me when I felt how wet she was.

Stjarna moaned and pressed her face into the book, curling her fingers on the table as I languidly rubbed that little pearl at the top of her sex through the soaking, gauzy fabric of her nightgown. 

“Tell me,” I demanded breathily, gradually increasing the pressure of my touch. “Tell me what you want me to do…”

If she had so wittingly interrupted my studies for this, she might as well indulge me.

Stjarna huffed and squirmed beneath me; clearly she wanted it now.

“I won’t let you come at all if you keep acting like this,” I threatened. “You’ll have to finish all by yourself.”

Stjarna chuckled to herself, but then gasped when I pressed my fingers harder against her.

“What is so funny?”

“You—you wouldn’t be able to watch me without joining,” she retorted breathlessly, and the fire smoldering in the pit of my stomach flickered at the notion.

“Is that a challenge?” I muttered.

“Maybe…”

“You don’t think I can resist you?” 

“I know you can’t,” she laughed.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” she remarked haughtily. “You can barely go two days without it.” 

I felt odd at that, and was quiet for a moment before suddenly releasing her and taking a step back. Stjarna’s laughter died in her throat and she pushed herself up off the table and turned around.

“What are you doing?”

“I can go two days without it,” I insisted.

“No, you can’t,” she rejoined with a sly smile.

I scoffed. “And what are you doing right now?”

“Oh, please, Loki, we both know it is almost always you,” she stated assuredly, rolling her eyes and coming to stand before me. “When I return from staying at Konavefr’s, you practically drag me into bed!”

“I only do that because I want to.”

She giggled and reached up to place her hands on my chest. “I am sure.” 

“I don’t have to,” I maintained. “I can control myself.” 

She laughed again, obviously not believing me, and ran her hands down over my front until she came to the laces of my pants. Just as she went to fall to her knees, I caught her hands, stopping her, and she glanced up at me in surprise.

“Hold on, Stjarna,” I said. “Look at this, you want me just as much as I want you.”

Stjarna paused, considering my words, and straightened. She folded her arms over her chest.

“Well, how about this? How about neither of us act like we want the other?”

“What?”

“Just what I said, Loki.”

“Are you testing me?”

“Perhaps.” 

“Oh, a competition?” I asked in amusement, quirking an eyebrow. 

Stjarna considered it for a moment and then smiled. “Yes.”

“Alright then,” I agreed. “We will see who can hold out the longest.” 

“Without sex?”

“Yes,” I concurred arrogantly, foolishly not even bothering to think ahead as to how miserable I would be. “Whoever gives in to the other first loses.”

“And what does the winner get?”

“Er, what would you want?”

Stjarna appeared pensive for a minute and then announced, “Your mother’s wanted to have a dinner with just us and Thor and Vinda but you keep refusing to go.”

“Yes, because it is idiotic.”

“Well, I would like to go. If I win, we go.”

“Ugh, fine. What if I win?” 

“You won’t,” she expressed confidently.

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, but what if I do?”

“Well, what would you want?”

I grinned, already having it in mind.

“If I win, you will accompany me as my partner to the next banquet.” 

“What?” she cried. “Loki, I would really rather not—”

“I see not why that is a problem, seeing as you’re so confident you’ll win?”

Stjarna pressed her lips together, staring hard at me. The last banquet she had attended as my partner—sitting up at the high table with me during the feast instead of at the handmaiden’s table—had not gone so well in her eyes, and she had refused since then to accompany me to one despite my insistence. 

Finally, Stjarna acquiesced and I grinned triumphantly. The next banquet was a little over a month away and would be to celebrate the annual hunt. I figured our little wager would be finished by then, and I had no doubt Stjarna would be accompanying me.

“Well, I suppose it is time for bed,” Stjarna announced suddenly, making a show of stretching her arms and yawning.

“Actually, I think we should finish what we started tonight and begin fresh tomorrow.”

Stjarna did not even respond—just laughed loudly as if I had said the most absurd thing in the world—and headed to my bed. She slipped beneath the covers, purposely oblivious to my glare. I was still hard, desire still simmering in my lower half. There was no way I was going to finish my essay now, I wouldn’t be able to think straight.

Grumbling to myself, I undressed as I walked to the bed, and Stjarna eyed me as I crawled under the covers.

“Are you going to be okay?” she wondered, attempting to mask a smile.

I glanced down at my lap, where the evidence of my desire was quite prominent.

“Yes, I am perfectly capable of getting off without you—”

“You can’t do that.” 

“What? Why not? You’re not involved. Though you’re more than welcome to watch, of course.”

“That’s cheating.”

“I’m not allowed to get off by myself?” 

She smirked. “No.” 

“That was not part of the agreement,” I retorted. “It was whoever broke first and begged the other for sex.” 

“Fine,” she huffed. “Just try not to wake me up.”

“Well, I’m not that desperate for it,” I uttered, rethinking it. “It will… go away.” 

She only smiled, leaned over to kiss me on the cheek.

“Goodnight, Loki.” 

I grunted a baleful good night and she giggled to herself before sliding down further into the bed and turning over.

I lay there on my back for a long while, hands folded on my stomach. Eventually—too long, in my opinion, my desire faded, and I gradually fell asleep, speculating whether I was prepared to forego sex for as long as Stjarna could. But then, based on tonight, I figured it wouldn’t be that difficult. 

I was determined to win.

__

The next morning when I awoke, Stjarna was still asleep and curled up against me, wrapped around my arm, nose pressed against my skin. It was still early, so I lay there for a long while, listening to her gentle breaths, before carefully disentangling myself without waking her.

I ran a bath, and while waiting for the tub to fill, quickly—and somewhat bitterly—got myself off. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was better than nothing, especially after last night, and I felt a little better when I emerged half an hour later. 

Stjarna had woken by then and informed me breakfast was on its way. She glanced over at the table as I began getting dressed, where the ruins of my attempt to complete my essay lay.

“Oh, you didn’t finish it.”

I snorted. She said it as if it was some unfortunate coincidence. 

“Well, it is entirely your fault,” I snapped. “You try to seduce me, get me to stop working, and then we don’t even fuck.” 

Stjarna burst into laughter. “You survived, though, didn’t you?”

“Barely,” I muttered, thinking on how long it had taken the night before for my desire to fade.

Still giggling to herself, Stjarna disappeared into my bath chamber. When she later emerged, we ate breakfast together, which had been brought while she was readying.

“Loki, may we dine together tonight?” Stjarna asked halfway through, holding a piece of pink fruit between her fingers.

“Very well. Honey cakes?”

She grinned. “As always.”

__

That night, I had dinner brought to my chambers as Stjarna had requested. 

I was sitting at the table, and the servants were just finishing laying out the food when Stjarna arrived. She slipped through the open doorway, smiling innocently enough, and my eyes immediately fell down to her breasts, which were half-exposed by the low-cut collar of her dark blue dress—one I had never seen on her, but vaguely remembered.

My lips parted in shock as she sat down and thanked a male servant who filled her cup with wine, and whose gaze I noticed also drifted to her chest. I cleared my throat, annoyed by his wandering eyes, and he quickly bowed and scurried out with the others.

Stjarna smiled at me once the door was shut.

“Good afternoon, Loki.” 

“What is that?” I said flatly.

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb,” I snapped. “Your breasts are practically hanging out.”

“Oh, this?” she laughed. “Do you not remember? You gifted me this dress—”

“Years ago,” I interjected brusquely.

Stjarna never wore such revealing clothes, save for the little shifts she sometimes donned at night when we had sex. I had gifted her this particular dress over two years ago, hoping she would like it, taking a chance on the low collar edged with gold embroidery, and, as I had suspected, she told me she had liked it, but never actually worn it. 

Tonight, however, I knew her intent. Part of me was surprised—and a little impressed—at my usually innocent Vana’s guile. 

“I’ve seen your breasts plenty of times,” I remarked nonchalantly, taking a draught of wine. “Think not you’re going to accomplish anything tonight.”

“Loki!” Stjarna exclaimed, feigning offense. “I am shocked you think I would lower myself to—”

“You’re a terrible liar, Stjarna.”

She grinned, reaching for a honey cake. “I know.” 

I began piling food on my plate, and though I tried to hide it, I could not help myself from glancing surreptitiously at Stjarna’s breasts. Though I was not allowed to touch them, what with this ridiculous wager of ours, I was allowed to look, for it was not often I received such a tantalizing view of them while eating. Only an inch lower and I’d be able to see—

“Loki.”

“Yes, darling?”

She was drizzling glaze over the venison on her plate, smiling without regarding me.

Grumbling to myself, I averted my eyes, but my attention was quickly drawn back when Stjarna spilled a bit of glaze on her fingers and began licking it off, much too slowly to actually be useful.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ve got glaze on my fingers,” she rejoined.

I rolled my eyes, suppressing a laugh. “You’re not a very good flirt, Stjarna.”

She sighed, picking up a cloth to wipe her hands, and I burst into laughter.

“You’ve always been a terrible flirt, actually.”

“Yes, well, if I remember correctly, in the beginning you almost ruined everything with your terrible flirting.” 

“But I got you, didn’t I?”

“Somehow,” she muttered, poking at her food.

I smirked. “And you love me now.”

She did not answer, but I saw the corner of her lips twitch upwards in a smile.

“You know,” I said slyly, “I could show you how much I love you tonight. Or right now…”

Her eyes flickered up to mine. “I know you could.” 

I stared expectantly at her, silently urging her to stand up, to proclaim she could not stand it any longer, but she only tilted her head, smile growing.

“Do you think I’m going to give in that easily?”

I frowned.

“Then tuck your breasts back in, it’s not going to work.”

“Oh,” she sighed, as if dismayed. “You seem to like them well enough the rest of the time…”

I stuffed a mouthful of venison past my lips as she gazed penitently at me.

“Do you not like them anymore, Loki?” she wondered sadly, curling her bottom lip.

I swallowed my food. “It’s not going to work, Stjarna.”

“I see,” she said, tone changing immediately. “Perhaps I ought to change, then, since you’ll remain unswayed.”

“A wise decision,” I smirked.

Stjarna stood up and went into my bedchamber, where I knew she had a chest with some dresses folded in it. I continued eating, feeling very sure of myself, but nearly choked when Stjarna reentered a few minutes later wearing nothing but one of those racy little shifts.

Her pale legs were exposed all the way up to right below her hip, just covering that spot between her legs, and her breasts were even more exposed than before, and I could faintly see her nipples through the filmy material, all of it held up by two thin little straps, which I knew from past experience could easily be ripped apart.

Stjarna’s expression remained completely neutral as she sat down across from me. 

“You can close your mouth,” she stated, picking up her cup of wine.

I slowly closed my mouth, pressing my lips together.

“Why aren’t you this spontaneous all the time?” 

“Because a dinner with your mother and brother are never at stake,” she countered imperturbably, taking a sip of wine.

“Do whatever you want, darling. It won’t work.” 

She smiled.

“We’ll see.” 

__

Stjarna and I had made it to the third week without giving in to one another and it was becoming extremely difficult. I wanted her, and she wanted me, but neither would forfeit to the other, and my wrist was beginning to ache.

One night after dinner, Stjarna was sitting in front of my fireplace reading. I had decided to bathe tonight and exited my bath chamber with nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around my waist. I had not dried myself completely yet and headed to my wardrobe.

“What are you reading?” I inquired as I walked by Stjarna, pushing my damp hair away from my face.

“The queen let me borrow it,” Stjarna answered, flipping a page. “It concerns the history of Vanir art. She thought I might like it since my father was a painter.”

“Yes, it sounds interesting,” I said.

“It is, there’s an entire chapter on—”

When Stjarna suddenly cut off mid-sentence, I glanced at her. She was staring at me, words caught in her throat.

“Is something wrong?”

She pressed her lips together. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean ‘what am I doing?’ I just got out of the bath.”

But Stjarna only smirked and lowered her eyes to resume reading.

I began rifling through my wardrobe, but turned again when I discerned a prickling on the back of my neck. Stjarna was peeking at me above her book, and when I caught her eye she quickly covered her face and giggled.

“What are you doing?” I laughed.

“Reading,” came the muffled reply.

I cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

“You didn’t do a very good job of drying off,” she stated a little more loudly now. “You’re dripping everywhere.” 

“Am I?” I said wryly, and I took the towel from around my waist and lifted my arms to roughly dry my hair. “Is that better?”

Stjarna was peering over the top of her book again, and though I could only see her eyes—wandering now with wild abandon over my naked body—I knew she was grinning.

“Yes.”

I chuckled, turned back to my wardrobe, and finished picking out my outfit for the next day. 

Stjarna and I went to bed a little earlier than usual that night, so it took me longer to fall asleep. Eventually I grew tired of staring at the wall, and was just on the verge of drifting off, when I heard Stjarna—whom I had assumed to already be asleep—make a soft sighing sound behind me.

My eyes flew open, for I had heard that sound before, and immediately sat up and looked over. Stjarna, who was very much awake, froze and gazed up at me with an embarrassed little smile, and I saw that beneath the covers her hands were between her legs.

Heat snaked its way down my spine, coming to settle between my legs, knowing that she was touching herself.

Stjarna bit her lip, attempting not to smile so widely.

“What are you doing?” I inquired, not bothering at all to mask my own wolfish grin.

She scoffed. “You can’t just parade around half-naked in front of me, dripping wet, and expect me to ignore it.” 

I only laughed.

“So unless you’d like to join me—of your own volition, of course—I’d like to finish.”

“Oh, of course,” I smirked, lying on my side with my head propped up. “Carry on, darling.”

Stjarna’s lips twitched upwards in a smile.

“Do you want to know what I’m thinking about?”

I knew what she was doing, but figured I was strong enough to resist.

“Yes,” I breathed. “Tell me.” 

She grinned and proceeded to recount to me how she was envisioning me on top of her, mouth on her skin, my body between her legs and deep inside her. Stjarna knew it drove me crazy to hear her talk like that, to have her exuding such blatant want. 

By now I was hard, and by some miracle restrained myself from slipping my own hand beneath the covers. I only watched her, and though it was not the first time I had observed Stjarna touch herself—though it was the first time I had consciously made the decision not to help her or myself—I took immense pleasure in the way her smile eventually melted away and her lips parted, how her breaths began coming more heavily, how she rolled onto her side to face me and one of her hands came up to touch my chest.

If she would not give in to me, at least she made it evident it was I she was thinking of. Stjarna curled her fingers against my chest, closed her eyes, and I lightly wrapped my fingers around her wrist as she came. She let slip a breathy little moan as I gently ran my hand up and down her arm, and then a few moments later relaxed and smiled almost drowsily up at me.

Stjarna scooted closer to me, wiping her fingers on her nightgown before wrapping her arms around my middle. She buried her face in my chest and happily sighed, and I lay there still burning up with desire.

Gods, she was driving me mad; I wanted to pin her down and fuck her into the mattress, until she was crying my name, to relieve this almost painful aching between my legs. She must have wanted desperately to win, she hardly ever acted like this—and I loved it—but unfortunately I could not touch.

“Goodnight, Loki,” Stjarna murmured sleepily, nestling even closer.

Attempting to banish this heat broiling inside me, I wrapped my arms around her and held her as she drifted off to sleep, consoling myself with the fact that soon—not soon enough, but soon—she would have to give in to me.

__

In the morning while Stjarna still slept, I went in to my bath chamber and, like that first morning, quickly got myself off, recalling Stjarna’s little moans from the night before. Afterwards I leaned against the wall, attempting to slow my breathing, and pressed my forehead to the cool stone. 

It wasn’t good enough. I wanted her—badly—but this little competition between us was not only a matter of avoiding a pleasant dinner with my mother and brother and his mistress, but a matter of pride. Of course I loved Stjarna, but I wanted to prove her wrong, as well. I suppose it was the arrogance in me.

Sighing, I cleaned myself up and went to have breakfast fetched. Once it was laid out and the servants gone, I went back into my bedchamber and found Stjarna still sleeping. I walked up to the side of the bed, bent over, and kissed her shoulder.

“Stjarna.”

She flinched in her sleep, made a soft sound as she stirred, and slowly opened her eyes, turning her head to gaze up at me.

“Did you sleep well?” I inquired with a smirk.

She smiled knowingly and stretched.

“I did,” she admitted, rolling onto her back.

“I’m glad to hear it,” I replied, somewhat sardonically, and she giggled. “I’ve had breakfast brought. Get dressed and we’ll eat.”

Stjarna nodded, but just as I straightened up to go back into the other room, she caught my hand. I looked down as she sat up, holding the covers up to her breasts.

“Loki?”

“Hmm?” 

“Can we go to the city today?” 

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a small shrug. “I was thinking about it last night. We haven’t been in a long while and I wanted to do something today.”

I considered it only briefly before acquiescing, and Stjarna grinned in delight, slipped out of bed, and went to get ready.

After we had eaten breakfast, I told a servant to let Mother know I would be taking the day off and to inform my tutors. They would be displeased, but I didn’t really care. I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus on my studies today, anyway, what with images of Stjarna touching herself still lingering in my mind. A day in the city would help distract me and take my mind off of sex.

Stjarna and I went down to the stables, took a couple of horses, and rode down to the city. Her favorite thing to do in the city, surprisingly, was to visit the market. It was an all-day venture, with hundreds of merchants—a good number of them from other realms—selling food, textiles, livestock, and other commodities. 

For some reason Stjarna liked spending the whole day walking, stopping at different booths, and perusing the goods. I did not much mind, though, since I often found things that interested me, as well. 

Eventually, a stall selling weapons caught my eye and Stjarna followed me over as I began browsing.

Stjarna always amused me when she would pick one up and say, “Is this good?”

And I would study it and comment on the metal being slightly warped, or too long or too short, and she would smile as if she was proud of me, and the merchant would glare at me from behind his stall because other customers had overheard me censuring his products. I never seemed to find any weapons to satisfy me, though, for none were as well made as those forged by our blacksmith in the palace.

Afterwards, Stjarna grew quite excited when we came across a stall run by a Van merchant, and who was also selling books. Stjarna conversed merrily with the man and they spoke of Vanaheim as I absently glanced over the selection of books. Eventually Stjarna began inspecting the stacks as well and found a few she liked.

“Loki,” she said, showing me a particularly distressed tome. “This one is about Alfheim.”

“I’m fairly sure I have that one on my shelf somewhere…”

“Oh, well, what about this one? It concerns the fire giants of Muspelheim.” 

I took the book and leafed through it while Stjarna continued browsing, and eventually she settled on four books which she insisted on paying for herself. She was looking forward to beginning the one about Muspelheim, for I possessed few comprehensive books about that realm. 

She bid a cheery goodbye to the Van merchant and we continued through the market. It was only when the sky began to grow dusky that we left and Stjarna wondered if we could visit her family. We paid them a brief but pleasant visit, and by the time we departed night was falling.

As we rode back to the city, twinkling in the rapidly fading light, Stjarna asked if we could stay there tonight.

“Where?”

“I don’t know. An inn, perhaps?” 

“I suppose we could do that.”

“Somewhere along the river?” she requested hopefully, and I laughed.

“Very well.”

In the city, on a busy little street adjoining the river, we found an inn. I requested a room on the top floor overlooking the water, since I knew Stjarna would wish to view it. She was elated to be staying at an inn, though I could not understand why. I suppose she enjoyed the departure from our usual routine, and I would gladly indulge her.

We ate supper there, and though it was not as rich as what we would have eaten at the palace, it was hearty enough. After dinner, we went upstairs to our room, which boasted a small balcony. Here we sat, suspended in darkness above the street, watching the lazy river sparkle in the moonlight below.

Our chairs were close and Stjarna took her shoes off, leaned back, and propped her feet up on my lap. She began reading her new book on Muspelheim by torchlight and would occasionally comment to me on it as I gently rubbed her feet, surely sore from all the walking we had done today.

“Loki, do you know who the king of Muspelheim is?”

“Surtur,” I answered, affectionately kneading the ball of her foot.

“Yes, and his wife is Sinmara.”

“I have never heard of Sinmara.” 

“Yes, they rule there together.” 

“Muspelheim sounds terrible,” I remarked, shaking my head. “I think I would rather rule in Niflheim than Muspelheim.”

“The realm of ice?” Stjarna asked in surprise. “There is nothing there.”

I shrugged. “I would rather be cold than hot.” 

Stjarna laughed, and we passed a pleasant evening sitting there, talking and observing the street below. When Stjarna at last began to grow drowsy, we went back inside.

I sat down on the edge of the bed to take my boots off and glanced up to see Stjarna standing by the little table in the corner. Her form was half-illuminated by the candle on the table, and I watched as she carefully placed her book down with the others she had bought today and began to leisurely unbraid her long hair. 

I smiled when Stjarna began quietly humming to herself, running her fingers slowly through her hair. After a while, I stood up and went towards her, causing her to turn when she caught sight of my shadow flickering on the wall. Just as Stjarna opened her mouth to speak, I cupped her face, leaned down, and swallowed whatever her next words might have been with a kiss. It was not a passionate kiss, but deep and languid, and I pushed her back until she hit the wall.

“Loki,” Stjarna mumbled when I finally broke the kiss, and she blinked and looked up at me.

“I know, I know,” I breathed, resting my forehead against hers. “I just wanted to kiss you.”

“Why?” she queried smilingly, gazing up at me.

“Because I can.”

She laughed softly and tilted her head back against the wall.

“Thank you for taking me out today, Loki.”

“It was my pleasure,” I murmured, lowering my head to lightly kiss her lips.

Stjarna lifted her head to meet my lips and lightly fisted the front edges of my surcoat in her hands. I deepened the kiss, languorously exploring her mouth, tasting the spiced wine from downstairs lingering still upon her tongue, and pushed my fingers into her hair, further loosening her now messy braid. Stjarna let slip a faint moan into my mouth and pulled me closer, subtly pushing her hips forward against me.

When I finally broke the kiss and pulled back to regard her, she sucked on her bottom lip and I saw with pleasure her eyes glassy with desire. I stroked her cheek with my thumb, feeling it flushed. 

“I want you,” she whispered, causing me to grin as she slipped her arms under my surcoat and wrapped them around me.

“Do you want to?” I inquired, not goading or condescending. 

“Yes, but…”

“But what?” I breathed, tilting her head up and lightly kissing her lips and then her chin. Though we were only kissing, I could already discern the beginnings of lust stirring in me. Any kind of touching now—sometimes only if she looked at me in a certain way—aroused me, it had been so long since we’d done anything.

“I don’t know…”

“It will be our little secret,” I continued, lowering my head to pepper indolent kisses up and down the side of her neck. “In the morning we can pretend it never happened.” 

Stjarna laughed softly, but then truly appeared to be thinking it over. Hope rose inside me, but moments later the feeling was dashed when she shook her head.

“I will be disappointed if we give in so soon.” 

“So soon?!”

Stjarna giggled and lifted up on her tiptoes to kiss me.

“Come, Loki. Let’s go to bed.”

She took my hand in hers and led me to the bed. We slipped beneath the covers and Stjarna nestled against me, forgetting to even finish unbraiding her hair. Though I was somewhat frustrated, eventually sleep claimed me and we drifted off to the muffled sounds of the street below.

__

The next morning Stjarna and I rode back up to the palace and resumed our normal duties. More days passed and our little competition of abstinence dragged torturously on. 

I had never willingly—or somewhat willingly—gone so long without sex, and eventually it was literally all I could think of. In the mornings I imagined bending Stjarna over the breakfast table; during my lessons I fantasized about fucking her up against Master Hauknefr’s dusty old bookshelves; during training, during the afternoon feasts when I caught fleeting glimpses of her at the handmaiden’s table, at night when she came to my chambers and I could touch her but at the same time I couldn’t—everywhere, all the time, it was all I could think about and it was driving me absolutely insane.

Finally, I decided it was time to end this. I would attempt to conclude this maddening agreement of ours and push her right to the edge.

That night after dinner, Stjarna and I were lying on my bed. She was sitting up against the pillows and reading her new book on Muspelheim. By now she was almost finished with the book, and I was just watching her, rolled onto my side, head propped up on my arm.

“Do you like your new book?” I inquired.

“Yes,” she replied absently. 

“Oh, good.”

Silence.

She turned a page, softly sighed. 

I slowly reached over and languidly trailed my fingers down her arm. Stjarna did not react—only smiled when I leaned over and pressed my nose to her arm, and then my lips.

“What are you doing, Loki?” she questioned without looking at me, as if she did not already know.

“Nothing.”

“Oh? Because it feels like you are about to lose the wager.” 

“Not at all,” I responded, glancing up at her. “I do want you, but I can refrain myself.”

“Can you?” she whispered, arching an eyebrow. “Then what is happening now?”

I shrugged, still kissing her. “I am bored.” 

She laughed, unconvinced, and slowly closed her book.

“Loki, you know you can only say the words and I am yours.”

So different from that night at the inn, when she had seriously considered it, almost melted in my arms. Now she was back to teasing me.

“No,” I breathed, lifting up to press a tender kiss to her shoulder, where her nightgown was beginning to slip. “I can hold off.”

“Then why are you kissing me?”

“Because I want to,” I answered, and I took the book from her and reached over to set it on the bedside table. Stjarna fought a grin as I pulled her into my arms, straddled her waist, and trailed my open hand down her side to the curve of her hip. 

“Ah, ah, Loki—”

“I don’t lose unless we have sex.”

Stjarna appeared skeptical as I lowered my head and kissed her.

“Well, you’re pushing it.” 

I smirked, kissing her again. “Am I not allowed to imagine?”

“You’ve been imagining in the bath chamber every other morning, though,” she giggled, and I pressed my lips together in annoyance.

“Well, I wouldn’t have to if we hadn’t sworn off sex.” 

“I suppose that’s true,” she grinned. 

“Anyway, I was thinking of you today,” I murmured.

“Were you?” she asked shrewdly. “Pray tell.”

“I imagined taking you on the table.”

“Mmm…”

“And against the wall…”

“Yes…”

“And on the floor…”

Stjarna grinned. “That sounds exhausting.”

“And yet somehow you found it in yourself to keep going,” I smirked.

“I will, if you really want me to,” she breathed, and merely the change in her tone—lower now, brimming with lust—was enough to get the blood flowing. She put her hand on my cheek, stroked my skin with her thumb. “On the table, against the wall, on the floor… anything you want, Loki…” 

Heat coursed through me, fire and desire and lust and everything else I had been attempting to tamp down these past weeks, and gods, I needed her—I needed to rip that flimsy little nightgown off and make good on all I had just alluded to, but I had come too far now to give in, I couldn’t do it, not yet, not yet…

“Don’t you want it, too?” I pressed, trying not to sound too desperate, caressing her skin with my parted lips. “Don’t you want me to kiss you? Don’t you want me to touch you?” 

“Yes,” she admitted, and I grinned triumphantly. “But I can wait.”

Immediately my smile fell, and I gritted my teeth, realizing with a pang I had failed. I groaned in frustration before rolling off of Stjarna and onto my back, and she—I think genuinely surprised—lifted up on her arms. I raked my fingers exasperatedly through my hair as she gazed down at me, head tilted to the side, an arrogant little smile plastered across her face.

“I suspect you won’t be long now.” 

“What do you mean?” I grumbled. 

“Oh, please,” she laughed. “You’re so close to giving it up I can taste it.”

I stared at her for a long moment, taking in her haughty expression, and something rose up within me and faster than she could even see, Stjarna was on her back again and I lying halfway on top of her, straddling her leg and pinning her wrists to the bed. My face was only inches from hers and her smile instantly faded.

“You were saying?” I growled.

“Is this you conceding defeat?” she wondered quietly, finding her voice again, though nowhere near as supercilious as before. 

“Not quite,” I whispered, searching her eyes. “I only want to tell you what I’m going to do to you when this is all over.”

The corner of her lips twitched, and still she stared wide-eyed up at me.

“You’re going to be begging me to fuck you by the end,” I murmured darkly, and she chuckled softly, nervously. “And when you finally yield to me, I’m not just going to fuck you, Stjarna, I’m going to drag it out as punishment for teasing me and forcing me to endure this.”

I could feel her breaths coming a little quicker, though she tried to hide it. 

“I’m going to pin your arms down like this,” I said, lowering my head to lightly kiss her parted lips. “Maybe bind you with my magic so you can’t move… kiss down your body, between your legs, use my tongue until you’re dripping for me, and slide my fingers inside.”

I grinned wickedly as Stjarna let out a gentle breath, eyes wavering not once from mine, no laughter now as her cheeks flushed that deep, beautiful rosy pink.

“And just when you’re about to come, when your body is shaking and you’re whimpering my name, begging me to finish you,” I whispered luridly, knowing she could feel me hard against her stomach, “I’ll make sure you don’t come.” 

Now I lowered my head, lightly scraped my teeth across her skin, felt with pleasure her elevated pulse on my lips.

“I’m going to let you come down, and then I’m going to do it again, and again, and again…”

Stjarna subtly squeezed her legs on mine and I lifted up, released her hand but caught both her wrists with my other, and reached down to lightly brush my fingers over her breast. She expulsed a heavy breath, nipple hardening under my fleeting touch, and shifted restlessly beneath me. 

“And then I’m going to slide inside you, fuck you slow and deep, until you’re screaming because you can’t take any more…”

I lowered my head and began languidly kissing the side of her neck, meanwhile tracing lazy circles over her skin, gradually making my way down over her belly until I discerned those golden curls separated only by the thin fabric of her gown. 

“Until you’re begging me to fuck you harder and harder…” 

Stjarna’s breathing became audibly more ragged as I kissed and languidly sucked at her skin, wanting to make a mark, feeling a surge of victory—and lust—when she slightly arched her back beneath me, tilted her head to the side and let slip a telling little moan. 

Heat flared inside, my own breaths coming heavier, and I knew she was going to give in to me. Not that making love to her would be so terrible, necessarily, and I readied eagerly for her acquiescence. 

When I finally allowed my fingers to slip between her legs—admittedly, I was pushing the boundaries of our agreement—Stjarna gasped and stiffened beneath me. I grinned against her skin when I felt how unbelievably wet she was; the diaphanous fabric bunched between her legs was already soaking, and I could smell the heady fragrance of her desire hanging deliciously in the warm air.

Before I could push my luck further, though, Stjarna suddenly came back to life. She squirmed beneath me and I released her wrists, surprised as she used her seidr—because otherwise she was not strong enough—and pushed at me roughly until I was on my back. 

She straddled my waist and I grabbed her hips, this exhilarating mix of pride and lust surging through me that I had won, but just as I lifted up to kiss her, to give in to this desire that had been simmering unbearably inside me for the past month, Stjarna put her hand on my chest.

“Stjarna—”

“Two can play at this game,” she whispered sultrily, and I pressed my lips together in irritation. She leaned down, smiling lips inches from mine. “What if it was you who begged me?”

“Impossible,” I dismissed, upset at this sudden and displeasing turn of events. “I do not beg.” 

Stjarna laughed softly and sat up straight, hands splayed on my stomach. My eyes drifted down to her breasts, where I could just see her nipples hard through her nightgown, and I cursed to myself.

“So I suppose you’ve forgotten a month ago when you were practically sobbing for me to finish you?”

“Sobbing?” I snorted, eyes flickering back up to hers. “I don’t quite remember it like that.” 

“What? You don’t remember the way you were begging me not to stop? ‘Don’t stop, Stjarna, don’t stop…’”

I scoffed at her impression of me and she laughed again.

“Oh, please. You love it when I do that…”

“Do what?” I asked smartly, as she slowly lowered herself onto me, thick blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders.

“When I use my tongue on you,” she breathed, moving down to kiss my chest, and I smirked.

“I’ll admit I do not mind it.”

She laughed quietly, knowingly, lips brushing enticingly against my skin.

“I like watching you just as much as you like watching me,” she confessed, and glanced up at me from under her brows. “I like the way you close your eyes and tilt your head back when I touch you…”

Her just talking about it was further arousing me, and much to my chagrin she could feel it. Stjarna grinned against my chest, and my heart began to beat a little faster when she began making her way slowly down my body—something I had not anticipated.

“I like touching you,” she admitted in a whisper, pausing at my navel. “I like the sounds you make, especially when I take you in my mouth.”

I exhaled slowly when she began languorously kissing down lower, parted lips grazing the thin trail of hair winding down to disappear into the top of my pants. Down lower, muscles tightening in my abdomen in anticipation, and then her lips brushed against my hardness. Though there was a layer of leather to separate her lips from my aching cock, a jolt skittered fiercely through me and I knew immediately we had to stop or I might not be able to help myself.

Abruptly I sat up, grabbed Stjarna’s chin, and lifted her head. She gazed up at me, waiting patiently for me to say the words.

“That’s enough,” I said, unable to mask the faint hoarseness in my voice.

Stjarna’s expression fell slightly—those had not been the words she had wished to hear. She sat up and raised her eyebrows, almost innocently.

“What is it, Loki?”

“We have to sleep.”

Yes, I had failed. Miserably.

“Oh, but we don’t,” she murmured alluringly, leaning forward to bury her face between my neck and shoulder. She began kissing me and I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to the top of her shoulder. I relished the feel of her pressed against me like this, the brief wetness of her tongue upon my skin, wanted so desperately to give in.

Would it truly have been so bad? Would it have been such a terrible loss? I imagined sliding inside her, sheathed in her heat, feeling her body so warm and pliant beneath me, hear her panting my name, crying out.

Gods, I wanted her. 

“Are you giving up?” I wondered, lightly biting the top of her shoulder, hoping to the gods.

“Not at all,” she replied breathily, nipping playfully at my earlobe. “I just know how much you want me.”

And then her fingers brushed over my cock—with some pressure now—through my pants and I flinched at her touch.

“In fact, I know you want me…” 

And she giggled as I put my hands on her and pushed her back.

“We need to go to bed,” I said flatly.

“Are you going to take care of that?” she smirked, eyes flickering down to the spot between my legs.

“It will go away,” I muttered resentfully. 

Stjarna laughed, pushed my arms out of the way, and wrapped her arms around me. She pulled me down onto the bed with her and nuzzled affectionately against me.

“What are you doing?” I asked suspiciously, suspecting she was still attempting to get me to crack.

“I know we’re trying not to have sex,” she mumbled, “but I still want to touch you. I hope you do not mind?”

“No…”

Stjarna smiled and nestled closer against me, sighing, and I acquiesced. I was frustrated, but kept repeating this fraught litany over and over in my head, soon, soon, soon…

__

It had been over a month now, and I was going mad.

My only consolation was that I knew Stjarna was suffering just as much as me. I often caught her staring at me and could sense her want, but unfortunately she did not give in and neither did I. 

And so I was quite relieved when it came time for the largest annual hunt held in Asgard. All of the higher gods participated, including Father, and there was to be a huge banquet held that night. Typically I disliked hunting, for there were far more interesting things to do than track beasts through the underbrush drenched in sweat and dirt, but this year I was looking forward to it. My interest had been piqued, of course, only within the past couple of weeks and I suspected it was because I was itching to release some energy.

That morning I left Stjarna in the bed with only a parting kiss, and Thor and I and the rest of them, including Baldr and Týr and Frey and Njord, geared up and rode off to the forest. It was an all-day event, and I found myself quite invested in the venture, and by some miracle by the end of the day, it was I who had felled the most, and largest, beasts.

Many of the others were surprised and begrudged I had bested them all, and Thor was particularly amused. I had told him a couple of weeks before of my and Stjarna’s little wager and he had found it incredibly amusing and was impressed I had gone so long without sex. Afterwards he blamed that for my winning and said if he had willingly gone over a month without sex he likely would have won, too.

That afternoon our party returned to the palace, wagons loaded with our kills trailing behind. Servants rushed to take our weary horses and to hurry the meat to the kitchens for preparation. 

The banquet planned for that night would be beyond illustrious, for it was one of the most magnificent celebrations held in Asgard. The great hall was splendidly decorated and would host an especially large feast that would last long into the night, followed by dancing and much drunken revelry. Father would announce me as the one who had felled the most beasts, and that we would be feasting upon many of my own kills. To say I was eagerly anticipating the banquet—and putting to shame the prowess of Baldr and Týr and all those other idiots—was a colossal understatement. 

Before I could attend the banquet, however, I would have to bathe, for I reeked of stale sweat and dirt and three different kinds of blood. 

I made my way to my chambers, aching all over now that the adrenaline had faded and left me to experience each hard bump and fall today with every step. Upon reaching my rooms, I shut the door gratefully behind me and expulsed a heavy sigh.

I had only begun unlacing my leather vest, crusted in blood and dirt, when the door opened behind me. I turned, surprised to see Stjarna there with a big smile plastered across her face.

“Stjarna, what are you—”

But then her eyes fell down, took in the blood and bruises painted across my skin, and her jaw dropped.

“Loki!” she cried, rushing forward, concern etched upon her face. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes,” I said, catching her hands when she went to inspect my neck, which had blood splattered across it. “I am fine.”

“Why do you look so terrible?”

“Er, thank you for that,” I chuckled. “I always look like this after a hunt.”

“No, you don’t,” she insisted, eyes worriedly scanning the rest of me. “Not like this.”

After a moment, I suspected she was right, since usually I did not elect to take such an active role in the hunting. This year, however, I had been itching to let some of my pent up energy out.

“Did you not hear?” I asked, holding her wrists so she would stop prodding at me.

Her pale grey eyes flickered up to mine. “Hear what?”

“I am the champion of the hunt, Stjarna. I put the rest of them to shame!”

She smiled, finally realizing I was not hurt in any way. 

“You seem terribly pleased with yourself.”

“I am, and you should be, too.”

She furrowed her brows. “Why?”

“Because it is all your fault.”

“What?” 

“How else was I supposed to spend my energy?”

Stjarna laughed loudly at that, realizing my meaning.

“Well, perhaps you ought to bathe now, the banquet will begin soon.” 

“Yes, I see you’re already ready.”

Stjarna was dressed in a sleeveless, trailing pale pink gown, which elegantly draped her body and emphasized her curves. In her hair she wore a delicate headband of beaten gold flowers and on her upper arm a winding arm band in the shape of a snake I had gifted her many, many years ago, and that I had not seen in a while.

I reached out to trail my fingers down her arm, only marveling her.

“You are so beautiful,” I finally said.

“You say that every time, Loki,” she observed laughingly.

“Only because it is true,” I affirmed, pulling her towards me, careful not to let my front touch and soil her gown. 

Her cheeks flushed, which made me smirk, and she glanced away, trying to hide her own smile.

I tilted my head. “Why are you here?” 

Now she hesitated.

“I… I came to ask if you wished me to accompany you tonight.”

I raised my eyebrows. So that was why she had dressed up more so than usual.

I slowly smiled. “I have not won our wager, though.”

“No, but… neither have I. I was thinking about it and… you have long wished me to accompany you. It has been long enough.”

My smile grew.

“Thank you, Stjarna,” I murmured, kissing her, and then sighing dramatically. “I suppose this means I must have dinner with Mother and Thor.”

She lifted up on her toes to peck my lips. “It would be the chivalrous thing to do.”

I sighed again in acquiescence.

“You should probably bathe first, though,” Stjarna giggled, and I pulled back, realizing I had almost smeared myself on her dress.

“Ah, yes, that’s probably a good idea,” I agreed, releasing her. I turned to head to my bed chamber and Stjarna followed. I untied my leather vest, caked in dirt and blood, and dropped it onto the floor.

“Loki!” Stjarna snapped.

“What? They’ll get it in the morning.” 

She made a sound of disgust and rolled her eyes as I went into my bath chamber.

My tunic was practically stuck to my skin, so I reached up, grabbed the back of my collar, and pulled it off. I draped it over a stool by the wall and bent down to unlace the top of my boots.

And then, suddenly, I stopped. I slowly looked up at Stjarna, who was leaning in the doorway, arms folded over her chest, watching me.

“Wait a moment.”

A smirk slowly spread across her face.

“The wager is done.”

The corner of her lips twitched. “I suppose it is.”

“So what does that mean?”

“What do you think it means?”

I straightened, could already feel the heat curling in my lower half.

It meant I was about four seconds away from ripping that pretty dress off of her.

Stjarna seemed to sense my train of thought, and when I took a step towards her she flinched, smile melting away, and took one back.

“Now Loki, we still have to go to the banquet, it will start soon—”

“Damn the banquet,” I dismissed.

“There will be plenty of time afterwards—”

“I don’t care.”

I stopped and so did she, both of us tensed. I was smiling toothlessly, eyes fixed rapaciously on hers—and then I pounced. Stjarna, anticipating it, turned and managed to slip just out of my reach. She was running across my bedchamber, pale pink dress billowing out behind her, laughing loudly. Stjarna did not get far, however—I grabbed the back of her belt, causing her to gasp and falter, and reached forward to wrap my arm tightly around her waist. Stjarna squealed in breathless delight as I hauled her backwards and turned her effortlessly in my arms.

Within seconds she was pinned helplessly against the wall, breathing hard. Desire kindled inside me, winding down to curl hotly in the pit of my stomach. 

Stjarna went to protest, but before she could even get a word out, I lowered my head to engulf her mouth in a bruising kiss. I placed one hand possessively on her hip, wound it around to grab her arse and pulled her close. I braced my other arm on the wall behind her, taking pleasure in the way her body softened against mine.

When I broke the kiss to take a breath, Stjarna attempted once more to refute me, though her voice was quiet now and only in half-hearted protest.

“Loki, you’ve ruined my dress—”

“I’ll have you a dozen more made,” I growled, kissing her again, and this time she wisely realized I wasn’t going to the banquet and neither was she and she responded just as vehemently. Stjarna pushed her tongue past my teeth, lifting up on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. It was sloppy and hungry, evincing our shared desperation. 

I moved my hand from the wall, grabbed the strap of her gown, and pulled it roughly down over her shoulder. Stjarna sucked in a breath when I broke the kiss and pressed my lips to the top of her shoulder, tugged her dress down even farther until her breast was exposed.

Stjarna moaned softly and tilted her head back as I cupped her breast and squeezed it, supple skin filling my hand, nipple burgeoning eagerly to my touch. I ran my thumb over her pebbling flesh, lightly pinching her nipple and coaxing a breathy gasp from her lips.

I bent my knees, lowering my head to trail wet, openmouthed kisses over her flushed chest, until I took her nipple into my mouth. Stjarna breathed my name, arching her back and reaching up to tangle her fingers in my hair. I flicked my tongue across her sensitive flesh, hearing her breaths come more heavily, nibbled and sucked at her skin until it became pink and tender.

With my other hand I tugged her other strap down, until both of Stjarna’s breasts were exposed, and switched sides shortly before falling to my knees in front of her, unable to wait any longer. Stjarna gazed down at me, eyes heavy with desire, lips parted in silent entreaty.

I lustfully regarded her, smirking impishly as I leaned forward and kissed her belly, then lower. Stjarna sighed my name as I kissed her through her gown. Nuzzling between her legs, I slipped my hand beneath the hem of her dress and ran my splayed fingers up the backs of her calves, her thighs, until her dress was gathered in my hands at her waist and she was bared to me.

Anticipation was churning deliciously in the pit of my stomach as I leaned forward and kissed Stjarna, almost reverentially, pulling her lower half closer to me. The scent of her filling my nose, heady and intoxicating, as I skimmed my nose down through the delicate curls. I hooked one leg under hers, dying to taste her, dying to hear my name falling from her lips, and hiked it up so it was over my shoulder, and Stjarna was supported on one leg and leaning against the wall.

Stjarna tilted her head back, breath catching in her throat when I ran my tongue languidly through her folds, unable to wait or tease, savoring the desire already pooled there. I pleasured her slowly, fingers digging into the tender flesh of her white thighs; her little breaths and soft gasps were music to my ears, encouraging me, and I took that little bud between my lips, coaxing a halting moan from her throat. 

She was squirming slightly against the wall, keening in breathless delight, and moaned again when I reached over the top of her leg and placed my hand at the top of her sex. I lowered my face, sliding my tongue slowly across her opening, and simultaneously began caressing that little pearl with my thumb.

Stjarna gripped my hair a little tighter, breaths coming faster. I was already hard, aching to be inside her, but hearing her voice her pleasure, feeling her straining against me, was too good to stop. I increased the pressure of my fingers, scraped my teeth across her sensitive skin, and grinned wolfishly when she almost sobbed my name.

I knew she was on the edge, I could feel her legs trembling, the way she kept stiffening against the wall. Her breath hitched, fingers tightening—and I stopped.

Stjarna cried out as I pulled away, grasping frantically at me. She looked down, almost in anguish, heaving chest covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and I only grinned impishly.

“No,” she despaired, closing her eyes and leaning her head back. 

I kissed my way indolently back up her body, pausing to revisit her breasts, and letting her gown fall back down to the floor. She was still despondent when I was standing; I lightly kissed her, wetting her lips with her own desire. Eyes fixed on Stjarna’s, I slipped my hand back between her legs, separated now by her dress, and pressed my fingers hard against her sex.

Stjarna stiffened and whined my name, and I caught her bottom lip between my teeth as she attempted to grind against my hand, silently begging me to finish her.

I smirked, attempting to, for the moment, ignore my cock straining against my pants.

“Did you already forget, darling?” I whispered, giving her a little nip. 

Stjarna wasn’t having any of it, though, and she pushed my hand away and, apparently uncaring now about my sweaty, bloody state, tugged indelicately at the laces of my pants. Wanting to play, but wanting to be inside her as soon as possible even more, I allowed her to loosen them and lowered my head to kiss the top of her bare shoulder, felt her breasts soft against my chest as she slipped her hand into my pants and touched me.

She nibbled at the front of my shoulder, smiled when I groaned into her skin and pushed my hips forward into her touch. Pleasure radiated up and out as I rested my forearm on the wall behind her, hand fisted, and the other on her side, grabbing a handful of the wispy material of her gown. I leaned against Stjarna, pinning her against the wall as she leisurely stroked me. Heat coursed through my body, tingling deliciously along my nerves, coming to settle between my legs at the point of her touch.

Stjarna hadn’t touched me in so long, and embarrassingly enough, I almost whimpered at how good it felt, how quickly I was hardening between her fingers.

I didn’t care, though, I was ready to fuck here right there against the wall. Just as Stjarna began pushing my pants down, apparently of the same mind, I stopped her. Despite my body’s urging, this wasn’t going to be some quick fuck against the wall, I needed her over and over and over and I wasn’t going to stand up for the whole thing.

Feeling as if I was going to burst at any moment, I yanked her belt off, and Stjarna leaned back, allowing me to quickly and roughly undress her. Once she was naked, and standing there in nothing but her sheer stockings, I paused only for a moment to admire her naked body before scooping her up into my arms. Within seconds she was on my bed and I kicking my pants off and crawling impatiently in after her. 

Stjarna lifted up to meet me as I knelt between her spread legs, just as eager. Fire racing through me, no time to wait, no time to tease and kiss and play. I slipped both arms beneath her legs, lifting them to open her up to me. Stjarna fisted the crimson sheets above her head, cried out and arched her back when I thrust unceremoniously into her, burying myself to the hilt inside her. She rolled her head back, gasped my name as I rested her legs against the front of my shoulders, and groaned in breathless pleasure when I leaned down to kiss her, stretching her muscles. 

“Loki,” she whined, and I knew she didn’t want to kiss, didn’t want to fool around—just wanted me to fuck her.

I lifted back up on my arms, more than willing to acquiesce, and immediately adopted a deep, powerful rhythm; I gripped the covers beneath her, mouth falling open as pleasure lanced through me with every thrust. Stjarna was gasping with each movement, and soon enough I was fucking her so hard it sounded as if she could barely catch a breath—every thrust sent her a little higher on the bed, until she sightlessly reached up to touch the headboard and I reached up to hold onto it, and my other gripped her leg and gods, it felt so fucking good.

My eyes were closed, mouth hanging open, acutely aware of every point of contact; our heavy, sporadic breaths mingling sensually with the slick sounds of our bodies coming together over and over again. I should have kissed her, should have touched and teased her, but I just could not stop, it felt too good to stop even for a moment, this scorching desire tearing a path through my body, demanding relief. Stjarna was apparently of the same mind as well, for any time she could muster a breath she was begging me not to stop, please don’t stop, it felt so good.

It did not take long for it to happen: Stjarna cried out and arched her back, biting her lip hard to unsuccessfully hold back her wavering moan of pleasure. She curled her toes next to my head, mouth fallen open, eyes squeezed shut, and I faltered, leaning down so our bodies were pressed together, groaning as I buried my face between her neck and shoulder. I pushed all the way in, just on the edge, grinning against her flushed skin when she whimpered and whined my name, body straining against mine.

I lifted my head to capture her lips in a trembling kiss, thrust my tongue into her mouth as I began moving against her again, fisted her hair in one hand, put my other on her thigh. Stjarna, despite still being caught in the torrents of her pleasure, lifted up to vehemently kiss me, edging me closer to that precipice.

I did not last much longer than Stjarna, and within moments had tumbled over the edge. I came hard, paralyzed against Stjarna as the pleasure surged through me, spilling out of me in hot waves. Only moments later it was over, and my breaths came harshly against her skin as I came slowly down. I shivered involuntarily against Stjarna and then relaxed, cradled her head in my hands and kissed her nose. She lightly trailed her fingers down my arms, lips parted in breathless contentment.

I wasn’t done, however; I was still hard inside her, and rolled my hips against her, educing a cadent moan from her lips. Stjarna squeezed her legs on my waist and breathed my name.

I kissed her once more, the desire already bubbling up once again, and I lifted up, pulled out of her, and she gasped when I grabbed her hips and flipped her over so she was on her stomach. I knelt between her legs, dug my fingers into her thighs, and hauled her up, and she turned her head to look at me in surprise.

“Loki, what—”

I grabbed her hair, wrapped it around my fist, and she gasped in surprise when I hauled her backwards and pressed my mouth to her neck.

“Don’t think I’m finished with you yet,” I growled. I may have been so desperate before, but now that I had at least mostly quenched this fire inside, I was feeling a bit more playful.

Stjarna’s eyes fluttered closed and I thought I saw a hint of smile playing at the edge of her lips. I grasped her breast, squeezed hard and she winced, then dragged my hand down her sweat-slicked body. My fingers found their way between her legs, through the soft curls, delving deeper until they were buried in the wet heat there.

She mewled and arched her back as I sank my teeth into the top of her shoulder, expulsing a heavy breath. I lavished her shoulder and the side of her neck with kisses, punctuated every so often with a varyingly gentle bite. Soon enough, her skin was blossoming with bruises and she was subtly writhing against me, tilting her head back, mouth hanging open in silent entreaty.

I reached between us, grasped myself, and guided my cock between her legs. Stjarna moaned as I slid inside her, and I released her and she fell onto her arms. I started moving in and out of her, splayed my hand on her lower back and grabbed her hip with my other. Stjarna’s front slid down on the bed so the side of her face was pressed against the scarlet bedcovers, fingers digging into the bed just as hard as mine were digging into her skin.

I increased my pace, hips slamming against her backside, rending a breathy gasp from her swollen lips with every thrust. She did not last long, and when she screamed my name I didn’t stop—harder, faster, until she pressed her face into the bed to muffle her wavering cry, which tapered off into a long, low whine, and I couldn’t stop now, I was just on the edge, and her body was shaking and the tightness coiled in my gut finally split open.

I squeezed my eyes shut and fell over Stjarna, sliding my arm around her middle and pressing my face into her back, body frozen as I spilled myself deep inside her body. I bared my teeth and sank them into the back of her shoulder, dug my fingers into her soft skin as pleasure crashed through me, fading the edges of my mind to merciful black.

It was over too soon, and I could hear Stjarna panting as I blinked and the color came rushing back: the red of my bed, the red welling up where I had bitten her. The warm blonde of her hair, the pretty pink flush of her pale skin. I kissed the bite mark, ran my tongue over it to let her metallic tartness fill my mouth.

I gradually pulled out of Stjarna, holding her hips and tenderly moving my hands down her thighs as she relaxed on the bed with an unsteady groan. Straddling her legs, I lay gently on top of her, moving her hair out of the way to languidly kiss her back, tasting the salt of her sweat on my lips—over her shoulder blades, up and down her spine, and the two little dimples in her lower back. 

Though Stjarna was still attempting to control her breathing, she giggled softly to herself and sighed. I finally settled on top of her, slipping my arms beneath her and lowering my head to kiss her cheek when she turned her head, a weak smile on her face.

“Do not tell me that is it?” she whispered breathlessly.

“You’ll have to give me a few minutes,” I responded with a smile, nuzzling my nose and lips against her.

“Now we both stink,” she laughed, and she was right. There were indistinct blood smears all over her, mixed now with my own sweat sticky upon her body.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, continuing to languorously kiss her skin. “We’re not going to the banquet.”

Stjarna did not even attempt to refute me; she only smiled and rested her head on her folded arms. When eventually our breaths had returned to normal and our hearts ceased their frantic dance, I rolled off of Stjarna and pulled her into my arms. 

We had been lying there for a while when finally Stjarna murmured, “So who won?”

I laughed faintly. “I think we both lost, darling.”

“Oh…”

“I cannot believe I went without sex for over a month for nothing,” I groaned.

Stjarna burst into laughter and turned over and lifted up on her arms. I watched, a small smile on my lips, as she clambered on top of me to straddle my hips.

“Oh, Loki,” she breathed, and she splayed her hands on my stomach and ran her sex languidly over my cock. My lips parted in pleasure and I lifted my hips to feel more of her. “It wasn’t that bad…”

“It was the worst month of my life,” I replied promptly, exhaling softly when she reached between us and grasped me. I was already hardening in anticipation, closed my eyes when she lowered herself onto me and I slid so easily into her body.

When my eyes fluttered open a few moments later, I saw Stjarna was grinning down at me. She rolled her head back as my eyes drifted down to study her body, glistening in sweat, hair sticking to her neck and shoulders, skin flushed a beautiful rosy pink.

“You’re so dramatic,” she laughed breathily, beginning a deep, languid up and down movement.

“Well, one of us has to be,” I answered with a smirk, grabbing her hips, guiding her, closing my eyes, more than ready for round three.


End file.
